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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24973297">An Arrangement</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/gurj14/pseuds/gurj14'>gurj14</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The 100 (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Clexa Pride Week, Clexa Week 2020, F/F, Forced Marriage, Friends With Benefits, Friendship/Love, Parenthood, Unplanned Pregnancy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 00:49:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>14,144</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24973297</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/gurj14/pseuds/gurj14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke is stuck with only one viable choice from ultra wealthy Olympia Woods: marry her daughter Lexa Woods or suffer the consequences of refusing.</p><p>Clarke and Lexa 'agree' to an arranged marriage.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clarke Griffin/Lexa, Past Finn/Clarke - Relationship, past Costia/Lexa</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>475</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Two weeks pregnant.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke didn’t set out to fall in love during high school, it had been a fluke. Finn was different from other guys, he was sweet and gentle. A bit of a pretty boy, but not arrogant or too flirtatious until he admitted at a party he thought she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen — a real life princess. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He made her feel good, they were two kids in love. they fell fast and they fell hard. He was President of the Green club, setting out to save the environment. He was kind, everyone liked him. He put his friends and family first… these were the things she had fallen for.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If anyone placed drug addiction and Finn in the same sentence, Clarke would have placed herself before Finn — no one saw his drug abuse coming.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>These were the things she thought of as the doctor asked her for her options. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She was twenty-two, she had medical school starting in a month.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not that she could afford college at this point in time — she would have to look into loans. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She was twenty-two going on twenty-three and she forgot about that one drunk night her and Finn forgot to wear a condom, the night of her parents funeral. She was going to be a college dropout and she was now pregnant with the child of a man who was not above selling it for drugs. And she was utterly alone, grieving her parents who had died in a car accident. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And the bank was seizing </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Their cars, homes, the jewellery…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If anyone put her name on the list for that circumstance, she would have laughed if her own name even made it to the list. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Everything was utterly fucked up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Miss Griffin?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke ignored the doctor. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She could have an abortion and not bring a child into her current mess of a life. She could figure out student loans and start her trek towards being a doctor and honouring her deceased parents. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But she knew after having lost </span>
  <em>
    <span>everyone</span>
  </em>
  <span> she loved, maybe this child was a gift to her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Or was that silly and selfish?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke closed her eyes. It was selfish. She couldn’t do that to a child… </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’d like to terminate,” she told the doctor. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suddenly the doors opened to the examination room and Clarke was granted the presence of a woman with grey-blonde hair, looking to be in her fifties, two bodyguards tailing behind her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That will be all, thank you.” The woman’s guards were dismissed outside, and Clarke watched as the doctor went as well. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s going on?” Clarke furrowed her brow in confusion. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry to disturb your appointment,” the lady walked over to the window in the room, looking outside at the trees. She was wearing a dark red dress, with darker red high heels and lipstick. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Um…” Clarke cleared her throat gently, “yes… but why are you here? Who are you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m Olympia. Olympia Woods. She removed her expensive leather gloves and walked over, extending a hand for a shake.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke knew that name, the social circles she grew up in carried names of wealth and power. The Woods family was old money, a dynasty. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke eyes the hand being offered, still confused and also now concerned. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Olympia withdrew the hand with a smirk. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You barely graduated college, Miss Griffin. Now you’ve discovered a pregnancy that will alter the course of your life, your ambitions for medical school… your parents would be </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> proud.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It hurts, the mockery. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I…” Clarke swallowed, “my parents are dead… did you come here to tell me all of my shortcomings? I don’t even </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“To the contrary, Clarke. My company received your resume for the position of a summer job for our marketing team.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke was utterly confused until she remembered applying before everything got so fucked up — her friend Octavia mentioned her Aunt hiring students and they were supposed to go partying in Australia all summer. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re Octavia’s Aunt?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Your resume left out your future child. Are you getting an abortion?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes I am — wait, how is this your business? If you can’t employ me — fine. I’ll apply somewhere else.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Actually, I have a better idea about how I can help you. But this job I’m afraid is not it. You know, I knew your parents. Your father was a brilliant engineer in our company.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” Clarke was confused. Her father’s boss was Thelonious Jaha, not this lady.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“In one of our </span>
  <em>
    <span>many</span>
  </em>
  <span> companies,” Olympia corrected with a smirk. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Look, whatever I am doing here is </span>
  <em>
    <span>none</span>
  </em>
  <span> of your business. If you could please leave.” Clarke was now glaring at the woman, an uneasy feeling in her gut. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“All right, let’s cut to the chase shall we, Ms. Griffin? All of the money your parents left you was seized by lawyers. You have nothing.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke’s glare only hardened, “why are you here?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I will let you stay at my mansion, free of charge. I will pay for your medical school tuition. I will support you financially in </span>
  <em>
    <span>every which way you can imagine</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and your child too.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m not keeping this baby and this entire proposition is fucked up! I don’t need your kind of help — whoever you are!” Clarke was shocked at the turn of events.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s not a question of need, Clarke. You will find you have no choice in the matter.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What are you talking about?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If you marry my daughter, you will be a part of our family.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke’s eyes widened in shock “I’m sorry, </span>
  <em>
    <span>what</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You heard me. Marry my daughter Lexa, become a part of our family. The child will be provided for, never wanting for anything. You will be a Woods, the life of privileges you’ve had growing up can be yours again. College…What do you say?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke didn’t know what to think. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This… I mean… what?” Clarke shook her head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes. Marriage. Lexa is to inherit the family business in three years time on her twenty-eighth birthday,” Olympia said, very seriously. “She has no time for distractions.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke rubbed her forehead — what was going on, exactly? “I’m twenty-two, you want us to get married?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She’s taken up lead in our Europe offices this summer… she’s fallen for a troublesome girl. I would like to help her settle into a proper relationship.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mrs Woods — I, I mean me and Lexa hardly know—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’ve slept with girls in the past, Clarke.” Olympia revealed her knowledge of Clarke’s private affairs, “was that just a phase?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, that’s not a phase,” Clarke frowned, “but if Lexa is in love I don’t see how she would agree to this. Let alone that this is crazy — are you trying to do some weird threat for the job? Maybe I’ll just get a summer job at Starbucks…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She’s agreed… And frankly, what other options do you have?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I will find a way that isn’t—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe you’re misunderstanding my position here… I will </span>
  <em>
    <span>stop</span>
  </em>
  <span> you from getting into </span>
  <em>
    <span>any</span>
  </em>
  <span> college, from getting </span>
  <em>
    <span>any</span>
  </em>
  <span> job. I will make it difficult for you to even find water to drink or flip </span>
  <em>
    <span>burgers</span>
  </em>
  <span>. you will </span>
  <em>
    <span>starve.</span>
  </em>
  <span> I also won’t let any doctor perform an abortion on you so you and your unborn child will starve. Say yes. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Agree</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke’s scandalized face showed how she was seeing Olympia with new eyes for the first time. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You…” Clarke seemed resigned to the blackmail, though incredibly angry, “you’re ruining my life for what? For your daughter to not be distracted? What can I offer?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh Clarke,” Olympia leaned forward, “I’m hardly ruining your life — I am saving you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I doubt it,” Clarke whispers. “Why is this marriage even necessary?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Lexa has a duty to her family, she will also make an excellent wife for you and I know you will make a great one for her. She doesn’t need a flimsy, drug addict of a woman seducing her to notions of charity… She needs a stable, positive home environment so she can succeed her grandfather as rightful C.E.O. — not her cousins.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In that sentence, Clarke understands.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If I marry Lexa, and this baby is born under the Woods name then Lexa gets more shares.” Clarke says out loud. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You certainly are clever. The first great-grandchild, yes. So then the baby will have claim on an additional 10 percent of shares which legally will be given to Lexa in guardianship until the baby is 25… and then, well, Lexa has the most shares of her cousins. Controlling power.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Until they have kids,” Clarke narrowed her eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Let me worry about that, Clarke… in the meantime, I want to hear your decision.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You would really let me starve if I refuse, blacklist me from getting an abortion, and let the baby died with me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then do you really need to hear me say it?” Clarke gritted out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Excellent. I’ll make the arrangements for you to be in the office and get the paperwork done in the morning, but we will have the ceremony this coming Saturday. It will be best to have the marriage </span>
  <em>
    <span>before</span>
  </em>
  <span> you start to show.”</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Lexa’s meeting with her mother was clear — if she didn’t go through with the wedding, Clarke and Clarke’s unborn baby would suffer. All of Clarke’s friends would suffer. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Costia</span>
  </em>
  <span> would suffer. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The company would suffer. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“It is your birthright,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> her mother had said, so coldly. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“You will claim it and take your rightful place in 3 years time, as CEO. You would be wise to sacrifice your desires to help the ones I’m threatening, Lexa. Your needs can never come before this family — this empire we have built. The people who depend on us. If not you, Aden or Madi will have to be the ones.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her mother had left her no choice in the matter. The best move was to marry Clarke. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lexa knocked twice on Costia’s apartment door. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She heard the padding of feet, and her beautiful girlfriend smiled so brightly when she saw her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Lexa!” Costia leaned forward and pulled her into a kiss — Lexa allowed the kiss to happen, for it would be her last. “You said you couldn’t visit me until next month!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know… there’s something we have to talk about.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Costia’s smile froze, and when she seemed to realize Lexa’s eyes and tone held pain and regret, she knew something awful was going to happen. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re… breaking up with me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lexa inhaled sharply and raised her chin, “may I come inside?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Costia looked down at her feet and refused her entrance, “just </span>
  <em>
    <span>tell</span>
  </em>
  <span> me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lexa looked around the hallway, it was empty but she still preferred they talk in private. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Please, Costia. Let me explain—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Explain what?” Costia snapped, her eyes furious. “How can you explain throwing away a year —a </span>
  <em>
    <span>year</span>
  </em>
  <span> of everything we’ve been through!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lexa stayed as calm as she could, “it’s out of my hands, Costia. I’m sorry. It’s best we move on.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Move on? Lexa I—” Costia’s eyes brimmed with tears, “I </span>
  <em>
    <span>love</span>
  </em>
  <span> you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She sounded desperate and Lexa felt her own eyes start to water. Costia had never said those words to her before, but Lexa had always wished to hear them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Costia,” Lexa sucked in a sharp breath, “we can’t.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Please, let me—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Why</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lexa sighed and the posture in her shoulders was lost. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Believe me if… if there was any way we could be together…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s not good enough, Lexa.” Costia pressed her hands against her eyes in and effort to stop crying, “like what the actual </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lexa realized she was crying with Costia when a salty tear touched her lip. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Whatever it is, we can work it out,” Costia petitioned her, pleading, her hands dropping to Lexa’s shoulders in hope. “You told me you loved me.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It is done,” Lexa wiped her eyes and made sure she sounded as cold as possible so that Costia could hate her and not love her. “In one weeks time I am to be married to another woman.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She saw how her words cut into Costia’s heart, her hands dropping down numbly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What we had was special, I will cherish it… but I will have a wife and there is no room for you in my life anymore.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Costia’s slap was expected, the sting was even welcome. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fuck you Lexa. If you really loved me, you would have fought for me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lexa met her eyes, “exactly.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Costia laughed, empty and angry. “Leave my sight, you’re a </span>
  <em>
    <span>coward</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lexa had only taken two steps before she heard the heavy slam of the door behind her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She flinched, tempted to go back and apologize. But she knew that wouldn’t mean anything. Her mother had all the power here… she couldn’t be so selfish to ruin Costia’s life on a romantic whim. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was done. </span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>“Clarke,” Lexa stood standing behind her in a tight, fashionably tailor-fitted dark green tuxedo jacket. She looked incredibly beautiful, her hair done in loose elegant waves and her makeup touched up by an artist to bring out her eyes. The slim black tuxedo pant and sleek high heel gave her a tall, regal look as well. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke felt sick to her stomach, and not from her pregnancy. She looked up to make eye contact, the tears evident on her face. Their wedding ceremony was to start in 15 minutes and Lexa had arrived to walk down the aisle with her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Their enthusiastic wedding planner, hired by Olympia, had every second managed for the ‘joyous’ occasion. Down to what time they would engage in a PG-13 kiss at the altar. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Give me a minute to prepare myself for this forced marriage,” Clarke muttered before grabbing a tissue and dotting her face free of the wet tracks. More leaked in their stead and she resented Lexa for being there to see her cry.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She felt a gentle hand on her shoulder, and turned to see Lexa’s face frown in an uncharacteristic show of sympathy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The only other time they met this week was when Olympia had sat them down and had them sign their marriage papers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you… are you missing your parents?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Missing my parents?” Clarke snapped, shrugging the hand on her shoulder away. “Of course I am. If they were still alive I wouldn’t have to go through this whole charade </span>
  <em>
    <span>against</span>
  </em>
  <span> my will.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lexa’s pity turned back to her emotionless gaze instantly, the abrupt change in her demeanour so scary Clarke’s tears simply stopped. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s a 30 minute ceremony. Then we have our reception, our dance… we act happy today. One day. Hate everything you want tomorrow, but I believe both of us can manage to pretend for one day.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke looked back — catching a glance at them in the long mirror. They looked picture-perfect as bride and bride, an attractive well matched couple. Clarke’s white dress was gorgeous and simple, her hair was styled in it’s up-twist, and her unborn baby was giving her stomach butterflies even though to anyone else she didn’t look pregnant at all. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How could you agree to this?” Clarke whispered. “Don’t you want a real marriage?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lexa raised her chin and swallowed thickly. “I evaluated the choice in front of me… I picked the best one.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke snorted. “You sound like your mother.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Clarke…” Lexa turned around and spoke to the room, refusing to make eye contact as she said, “I promise to treat you well… I will make sure you and your… </span>
  <em>
    <span>our</span>
  </em>
  <span> child are taken care of. That’s all I can offer, I hope it’s enough.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke shook her head, knowing Lexa couldn’t see her. “Whatever, Lexa. Let’s just get this over with.” </span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>The ceremony was intimate, only 50 guests sitting in the large chapel. There were no bridesmaids, no bachelorette parties leading up to the big day, no rehearsal dinner. Though, what was there to really be excited about when one was blackmailed into a marriage. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The photographer?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Somehow Clarke finds the strength to play her part, to walk down the aisle with Lexa’s cold hand intertwined in her own as a violinist plays a gentle tune. The guests stand and smile as they walk by, and Clarke focuses on how cute the kids look so that her smile can come out as genuine. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The hardest part was when she caught a glimpse of Lexa’s cousins, Bellamy and Octavia. Octavia was clearly high on something from the spaced out look in her eyes, and Bellamy was frowning when they made eye contact. He used to carry a torch for her during her senior year of high school, upset when she ultimately picked Finn to date. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Awkward. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lexa gives her gentle smile as they make it to the end of the aisle, the music hitting its last few notes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Looking at her, no one would ever be able to tell she was here against her will. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A priest starts the ceremony, reciting the sanctity of marriage. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It takes everything she has not to throw up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I do,” she finds herself agreeing to whatever the priest says.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I do,” Lexa repeats. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I now pronounce you wife and wife, you may kiss.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lexa moves in slowly, one hand cupping Clarke’s cheek gently and whispering, “we’re almost done.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke closes her eyes and kisses Lexa back when lips touch hers, letting it linger for a second longer before breaking it off with a forced smile. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fuck this,” she whispers back at Lexa as they turn around to the cheers and applause of their guests. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lexa doesn’t even flinch, “sometimes to win a war, one must concede a battle.”</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Never pegged you for a golddigger,” Bellamy approached her with Octavia by his side. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bellamy I—” he turned and walked away. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Lexa is heartless.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Octavia Blake warns her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke knows this — she has the front row ticket. She doesn’t need Lexa’s cousin — a drunk bridesmaid — slurring it to her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“When we were seven, and grandfather was making us get martial arts lessons, she broke three of Bellamy’s ribs. Because he </span>
  <em>
    <span>looked </span>
  </em>
  <span>at her funny.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Octavia.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The voice cuts into Clarke’s spine, she feels the hairs on the back of her neck rise. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Lexa,” Octavia slurs to her cousin, “congratulations.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lexa gives her cousin an unimpressed glare, “there are people Clarke and I need to meet.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“To the beautiful couple,” Octavia raises her glass sarcastically and then saunters off. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry about my cousin,” Lexa says, with absolutely no real apology in her tone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke sips on the lemon infused water in her hand. It was a long day, and there were still two hours left of this immaculate wedding reception. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She had never really been the type of girl to picture her wedding day, but she imagined eloping with someone exciting to a beach. She imagined feeling loved and  thankful. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Reality was, she had been blackmailed into a marriage with a heartless, cold, power hungry woman who hadn’t even bothered to ask Clarke what her favourite colour was. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It used to be emerald green, but Lexa’s piercing green eyes and dark green suit on their wedding day have made the colour a new trigger for nausea. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke gripped the water glass tightly, so tight she swore it cracked. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Two more hours, Clarke,” Lexa was also drinking water, “try and hold it together.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke felt sick. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Lexa!” A tall woman with blonde-dyed hair and high cut cheek bones approached them, a small toddler sucking her thumb was holding onto the woman’s hand wearing a cute little suit. Behind them, a tall man with darker brown skin gave a warm smile. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sight made Clarke’s heart clench. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She was going to have a child, and that child would be co-parented by </span>
  <em>
    <span>Lexa. </span>
  </em>
  <span>She would never have what this family seemed to have. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Congratulations to you and your beautiful wife. Thank you for including us in the celebration.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Glad you could attend, Anya. Lincoln.” Lexa shook her hand and then Lincoln’s. “Clarke, this is Anya Tsung. An old family friend. Her husband, Lincoln.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anya gives Clarke a wicked smirk, “I used to babysit your wife — she had quite the crush on me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke thinks she’s supposed to react, a playful laugh and tease at Lexa — maybe subtle jealousy. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Something </span>
  </em>
  <span>to indicate she actually cares.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you for embarrassing me in front of my wife, Anya,” Lexa cuts in smoothly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Congratulations, Clarke,” Lincoln bent down and picked up his toddler daughter who had started clutching at his leg, “Lexa and I are old fencing buddies. She’s got a mean advance.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke gave a small smile, afraid to say anything. She realized the little girl, Sierra, was matching her father’s attire in a baby tux. It was cute enough to bring a broader grin to her lips. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sierra stopped sucking her thumb and gave Clarke a giggle. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sierra giggled, look at that…” Anya looked happily at her daughter, “she threw up on Lexa last time we met didn’t she Lexa?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lexa rolled her eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How old is she?” Clarke wondered. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This little menace is almost two now,” Lincoln kissed his daughter’s cheek. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hi,” Clarke reached out and gave a cute wave to the girl, “aren’t you a cutie?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sierra giggled again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Too bad you don’t want kids, Lexa,” Lincoln watched as Clarke and Sierra interacted. “Would have been cool to have them grow up together.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke turned her head to Lexa and raised an eyebrow. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lexa shrugged, “Clarke and I plan on having children.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anya and Lincoln seem to take noticeable pauses at the words, shock clear on their faces. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eventually Anya simply says goodnight. “I’ll be seeing you in London for Atlas’s launch party next month. I’m going to head home before Sierra starts her temper tantrum.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Goodnight.” Lexa leads her away, and further around for more introductions. </span>
</p><p><br/>
That night in a hotel room, she cries herself to sleep and Lexa is silent beside, facing the other way. <br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>this fic will go forward and backwards in times of their marriage (this chapter is 3 years later)</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Being married to Lexa was a job - at least that’s how Clarke had taken to understanding it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> A duty, a responsibility… it took effort, it took precision, it took guts and most of all, it took a toll. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just accept the award on her behalf,” Olympia Woods encouraged, taking a long sip of her morning coffee. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Here on the Woods Estate, Olympia’s word was law. What she wanted was what happened. It was why Clarke was even married to Lexa in the first place, because Olympia had made it happen. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She had a knack of taking away all options from someone except the choice she wanted them to make. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Lexa is returning from London tonight,” Clarke said with great annoyance, “It is Cyrus’s birthday.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her son, Cyrus, was turning two today.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m aware, Clarke. We are hosting his birthday party over the weekend, tonight we need you at the banquet.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He can come with me—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The nanny will see him.” It was clipped. Tense. Final. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke hated this woman. Hated the control she had and how she reminded Calrke every single day how powerless she was. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Clarke, tonight you must simply wear the dress I’ll have sent to your room and read the speech left on your dresser. Be ready by six p.m. sharp for Olivier to collect you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After spending the afternoon playing with Cyrus, Clarke had to bid him adieu. She hated how he cried for her, upset that she was leaving him with the nanny. He screamed and she had to will herself to leave. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was bad enough she hardly got enough time with him during medical school that she had to leave him on his birthday for a a fucking speech. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She went to her bedroom, got dressed in insanely expensive clothes, and greeted her chauffeur Olivier downstairs — Cyrus’s crying was still echoing from his playroom and it hurt her -- she loved him more than anything..</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In the limousine, she went over the speech Olympia had drafted for her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It is with great honour Lexa accepts this award for humanitarian efforts with donations and physical labour to build homes for those who lost the roofs over their heads in the tragedy of Ton DC. I’m here to accept the award on her behalf, fully supporting my wife and her efforts. Lexa would be here if she could, she is very humble and acknowledges that there were many who perhaps did even more work than she did for humanitarian causes. It is a quality I love most about her. Thank you all. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her cellphone rang part way through her memorization, Lexa’s name on the screen. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke ignored it. She didn’t need an empty apology for an empty marriage. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Of course when she didn’t pick up, her bodyguard’s phone rang and Nyko had to offer his phone to her ear. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She knew if she didn’t answer the phone, Nyko would get fired. She couldn’t do that to Nyko. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What, Lexa? I’m trying to memorize a speech to accept your humanitarian award.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m sorry, Clarke. I had no idea she would ask you—”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m not really surprised, Lexa. Are you back?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Just landed… They’re sitting the plan on the tarmac so there’s no way I’ll make it in time.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke rolls her eyes, “whatever.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I have seen a copy of the speech she sent you… you can simply say ‘Lexa is sorry she could not be here, appreciates this award and accepts it on behalf of everyone who helped with rebuilding the homes of Ton DC.’ — short and simple is fine.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Your mother was adamant that whatever I say be that of a doting wife, not a company line.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lexa let out a sigh,</span>
  <em>
    <span> “then say whatever you must. This award is hardly that important.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The phone clicks off and Clarke glares at Nyko who simply shrugs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He understood her, as her bodyguard. This was a job. A Duty. A responsibility. She felt the familiar flare of anger stir in her belly, and her resentment for the Woods family and all their nonsense of power grew more. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Clarke returns to the estate, it’s eerily quiet. The photographer had made her take a lot of poses with the award, another request of Olympia’s no doubt. She heads straight to bed, ignoring Lexa who is on her cell phone in hushed tones - a common occurrence no matter that’s past midnight - and staring out the window. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She performs her bed routine, combing her hair, brushing and flossing, applying the expensive night cream Olympia was strict about using…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lexa joins her by their fancy basin’s twin sink with green eyes watching her through the mirror. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Cyrus is well?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke spits her toothpaste out and runs the tap in lieu of answering, her anger flaring up again from the reminder of her son’s screams. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I left him to go to some apparently unimportant award banquet and he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>screaming</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Having known Lexa over the past three years, Clarke could see the pain her eyes expressed. Where Lexa’s face lacked emotion, her eyes were always signs Clarke had started paying closer attention to. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Does your mother just not understand, Lexa? That he may only be two -- and this had nothing to do with the fact that it’s his birthday today for fuck’s sake -- but he is still traumtaised from that kidnapping! I am still on edge about it!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her yelling has never caused Lexa to so much as flinch in the past, but today Clarke sees her flinch and it gives her instant calm. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I… I’m sorry.” She regrets her angry outburst. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lexa stays quiet and they find themselves on opposite ends of a large, spacious, cold bed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Goodnight Clarke. Cyrus will get better, I know it.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke feels tears glitter in her eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Over three years. For over three years she’s been married to Lexa, a loveless relationship that on its best day means they don’t talk. Lexa is all business, all the time. And Lexa has a bond with Cyrus, the only love they have in common. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke was feeling the suffocation of being controlled by Olympia, of having all the resources and money given by a Woods name to protect her son and those resources failing her when he was kidnapped a month ago for ransom. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“An old friend of mine is getting married…” Lexa’s voice interrupts her self loathing and Clarke cranes her neck to listen. “Why don’t we go… you, me, and Cyrus?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She finds herself agreeing, because it was the closest thing to a vacation she was going to get. </span>
</p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lexa wasn’t sure what to be prepared for when she saw Costia. It had been around three years since their breakup, since Costia had slapped her with angry tears trailing down her face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Getting the wedding invitation was a surprise. Not because Costia had found another to love and marry, but because Costia had sent her a personalized invite with a hand-written message in cursive, ‘it would mean so much for you and your family to come.’ </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So Lexa had rescheduled a trip to Sweden office to make sure they attended the wedding. Clarke had finished her midterms for the semester and the family tailor had found them both reasonable attire for the occasion. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know, Costia’s brother Jackson was a student of my mom’s,” Clarke revealed. “It will be nice to see him… how do you know the family, Lexa? Business?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lexa gently cleared her throat, “something like that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hm,” Clarke gave her one of those looks which terrified Lexa. The ones where she could see right through her, knew Lexa was withholding details. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But she never pushed, and for that Lexa was lucky that of all the women her mother wished to impose for marriage she had imposed Clarke Griffin. Lexa respected her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They had come a long way, having civil conversations since Cyrus was born. Clarke had even smiled this morning -- which she hadn’t done since Cyrus’s kidnapping -- Lexa wasn’t about to mess that up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Lexa can you hold Cyrus, please,” Clarke asked quietly, “I need to double check that I packed my phone…” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lexa accepted the toddler with a gentle smile. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hi Cyrus,” She cooed him, poking his cheek, “how was your nap?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He giggled and then ducked his head, burying it into Lexa’s shoulder. She considered him family and was not ignorant to the fact that Clarke trusted her with him in spite of their circumstances. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It was a good nap, hmm?” she rubbed his back gently, watching as Clarke looked through her purse for her phone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shit, where did I put it…” Clarke spoke out loud. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Lexa.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The voice was very calm, but Lexa’s adoring smile aimed to Cyrus dropped instantly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She collected herself with a deep inhale before regarding Costia with as genuine a smile as she could muster, “Costia.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Found it!” Clarke triumphantly held out her smartphone. “Oh, wow this is Costia? I’m Clarke, thank you for the wedding invitation.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Costia gave Clarke a tight smile, “Lexa’s told you about me? That’s surprising — given she never told me about you.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Lexa feels the verbal jab and decides she’s had enough drama for the day. “Costia, Clarke knows your brother. Her mother was his attending physician at Polis General.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Clarke gave a charming smile, “I look forward to seeing him, hope he remembers me. Small world, hey?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Clarke Griffin of the Griffin family?” Costia narrows her eyes in challenge, “everyone knows who you are… tell me, has Lexa told you how the last time I saw her she dumped me so she could marry you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke is clearly surprised and Lexa feels a hot flush on her cheeks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You usually have more tact, Costia,” Lexa manages to keep her voice steady. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, it’s my wedding — </span>
  <em>
    <span>clearly</span>
  </em>
  <span> I’m over it.” Costia then reaches out to tap Cyrus’s little nose. “I guess I never really knew you after all, Lexa. You told me kids would never happen.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke feels like a third wheel, an intruder all of a sudden. She decided to intervene since Lexa was clearly holding back from saying whatever she wanted to. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m really looking forward to the wedding tomorrow,” Clarke smiles as kindly as she can, “did you have a bachelorette party? We did just the ceremony and small reception — we didn’t even have dancing. Lexa’s mom planned everything!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It broke some of the tension and Costia seemed to accept the subject change amicably. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Our rehearsal dinner is later this evening, and yes. Separate bachelorette parties, for me and her. We went all out.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Cool,” Clarke took a pause and then complimented, “this hotel you selected — gorgeous venue.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you… so, Clarke. How </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> you and Lexa meet? Who proposed? She never told me those details, just that she was getting married.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lexa adjusts Cyrus in her arms, her light grey blazer had collected a spot of his drool. He started to tug on her white gold pendant. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We met through mutual friends,” Lexa recites the same answers given to the lady from Forbes magazine who had asked, “we both saw ourselves getting married and brought it up at the same time.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s it?” Costia’s eyebrows challenge, “no torrid love affair? No exes left in the dust?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There’s a long awkward pause, and after a moment that has Clarke squirming from the tense atmosphere between the two ex lovers in front of her, she clears her throat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Clearly there’s some history so how about me and Cyrus go to the room and you two talk—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Talking would have been better before you cheated, Lexa.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Lexa never cheated,” Clarke finds herself defending. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Costia looks confused and the beat that extends between the three women gives awkward pause until Lexa speaks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Costia, I’m sure you will look beautiful tomorrow on your wedding. I’m thrilled to see how well you’re doing, in your career and with your fiancee — Arron seems like a lovely woman. I look forward to meeting her tomorrow as well. Clarke and I just have to retire for the evening, it’s been a long day.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke watches as Lexa bends down with her free arm, the one not holding Cyrus, and grabs the large suitcase of Clarke and Cyrus’s things. Her stuff was being brought in last minute, since she joined them from a layover. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke blinked and Lexa was at the elevators, waiting for the doors to open. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It… was nice meeting you,” Clarke stutters before rushing off to join Lexa. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She chances a look back, and Costia’s eyes are trained on Lexa like a hawk until the doors close. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When they make it to their room in quiet motions, Lexa is the first to talk. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Next time you should just ask your personal security to handle your luggage. It will save you from carrying it around.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m not an invalid, Lexa,” Clarke says. “You didn’t have to carry it for me.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s not what I meant,” Lexa inspects the suite — last time they shared a hotel she had simply used the sofa to sleep. At home they had separate rooms for privacy. It was rare they shared quarters but when they did Clarke had always noticed how minimalist Lexa was. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know,” Clarke surprises both of them by placing a hand on Lexa’s shoulder. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lexa looks at her hand and then her face with a question. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you alright?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lexa frowns gently, “I will be. It’s just… well…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She’s obviously your ex-girlfriend,” Clarke states, “and obviously though she’s over you enough to get married, she’s still holding a grudge for how things ended.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She deserved better,” Lexa said. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did you… did you break up with her because we were getting married?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“… yes.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why? Why didn’t you just marry her? Olympia was so adamant you need a wife to be C.E.O., Costia comes from a good family, she’s beautiful, she wanted kids too—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I never even asked my mother, you know. I just agreed.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke’s jaw drops, “what do you mean?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I made a decision that instead of putting Costia in my mother’s line of fire or letting my mother threaten your livelihood, the best course of action was to marry you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We could have married and you could still—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>believe</span>
  </em>
  <span> in monogamy Clarke. I would never cheat.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Even if the marriage is fake?” Clarke realizes her hand has been on Lexa this hold time when she squeezes and steps closer, “Lexa that’s no way for us to live.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The marriage is very real,” Lexa’s eyes narrow at her, “whether or not you decide to be a participant, I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>your</span>
  </em>
  <span> wife. I vowed in front of a higher power to honour and protect you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke is stunned and she drops her hand, “we don’t even see each other more than twice a month — our text messages are done through your personal assistant asking me if I want to join you on one of your trips! Like </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> one. Why would you give up what you had with Costia for that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Because if I didn’t then Costia’s career would have been ruined with details my mother had on her. If I didn’t,” Lexa pleads Clarke with her eyes, “if I didn’t choose you, my mother was going to make you and Cyrus </span>
  <em>
    <span>homeless</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Clarke. Why wouldn’t I give up what I had with her?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I… I had no idea,” Clarke crosses her arms, watching Cyrus resting his head on Lexa’s shoulder and looking between them. “I knew there must have been </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span> she threatened I didn’t… I didn’t know it was something like that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You thought me to pick money over people,” Lexa shrugs her shoulder, “I understand.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke felt respect for Lexa she had never felt before. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We aren’t going to be married forever you know,” Clarke reminded her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No but you are my wife for now, and I am yours.” Lexa’s voice is so resonant and they stand there, eyes in contact for a long, understanding moment. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A knock interrupts them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That will be my luggage,” Lexa breaks eye contact and noisily clears her throat. “Excuse me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She goes to open the door, and Gustus comes inside to drop off the hard shell black suitcase and messenger bag. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Check the phones, please,” Lexa asks him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gustus affirms and goes into the bedroom part of the suite that has been separated by two glass doors from the rest of the room. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke is shocked to watch him pull out a wire tap from the phone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll check the make and model,” he eyes it up, “we’ll figure out where it’s from.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, Gustus. Goodnight.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Goodnight,” he gives Clarke a respectful nod and shuts the door behind him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Someone bugged your hotel phone?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This is one of the more prominent suites of the hotel, it could very well have been from the guys before us. He was being investigated for insider trading.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And why would it be in your hotel phone?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Someone who is hoping to hear me discuss something thinks I use hotel phones to get across private messages…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And do you?” Clarke asks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lexa raises an eyebrow, “are you interested in learning the art of corporate espionage evasion, Clarke?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Give me Cyrus, time for your food, buddy.” Clarke changes the subject. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Clarke and Lexa progress to a sexual relationship, but the rug is always covering some kind of stain.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Christmas music filtered through the professional jazz ensemble of the Woods family’s grand ballroom, a background effect to the chatter of the many guests mingling in fancy watches and shoes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke did the duty assigned to her by Olympia, greeting and talking about her final year of medicine with the lady from a ‘reputable magazine,’ a crackling fire in their cozy backdrop as Lexa did other society schmoozing so they seem like coordinated coparents. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>(Honestly Clarke preferred sitting in an interview to the people Olympia usually gave her cue cards on talking to, committing herself to learning whose child was doing spectacularly useless things for her memory to know. Andrew Hunter and his son’s equestrian status was </span>
  <em>
    <span>the </span>
  </em>
  <span>most dull). </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Olympia had her sanctioned to appear on the cover of a magazine, to share her medical degree in spite of her family tragedy -- and how Lexa and the Woods family were her home who took her in, there for her and Cyrus. How she ‘fell in love’ with Lexa. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>(They had taken a photo earlier with a photographer, the Christmas tree backdrop and adorable matching Christmas sweaters). </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What do you love most about your wife?” The journalist asked her, deviating from Clarke’s ability to juggle motherhood and her final year medicine. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke paused with her champagne glass touching her lips, unsurprised Lexa was brought up so quickly… Lexa was what everyone wanted to know about from her all the time -- Clarke’s entire identity felt like it had become that. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Lexa is...” Clarke looked across the room where Lexa was holding Cyrus as he slept on her shoulder, now exchanging words with their nanny, “...is someone I can respect.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was the truth. Three years of their arrangement had passed and Clarke trusted her. Trusted her not to lie, not to expect… trusted her to protect Cyrus. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The journalist gave her an odd look and Clarke gave her best fake and practiced smile -- snapping out of her reverie. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What I mean is, I can both </span>
  <em>
    <span>love </span>
  </em>
  <span>and respect her. Every decision she makes… she does what’s best for everyone, for family… she’s selfless. Brave. Strong.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke had a very distinct memory of Cyrus’s kidnapping earlier that year, how ruthless Lexa had been in finding him -- not resting until the kidnappers were in a maximum security prison. Letting Clarke throw various antiques and vases at her in anger, blaming her and her family for not only having to bear a son but have him taken from her, for giving her all their enemies and bullshit. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And you both make a </span>
  <em>
    <span>stunning </span>
  </em>
  <span>couple,” the woman says, interrupting Clarke’s wandering eyes of Lexa’s lithe figure, a black velvet femnine cut suit with diamonds glittering in the ballroom lights. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke blushed, her voice cracking, “yeah I guess…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The woman laughed, delighted. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry to interrupt ladies,” Lexa appeared in a cloud of glitter and perfume. “Clarke, I’ll be putting Cyrus to bed. Wick has a family emergency… are you almost done?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke saw the affection Lexa’s eyes had for Cyrus, holding him as he slept against her shoulder. And Clarke had some pent up affection for Lexa, who always tried to give her an out of the chores Olympia expected upon her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’re done actually,” the journalist spoke before Clarke could, “this article will be out by Christmas on Tuesday, Clarke. Mrs Woods.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lexa nodded back as the woman walked away, eyes narrowing just so before switching their attention to Clarke. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What emergency does Wick have, is it his grandmother?” Clarke was concerned. Wick was the sole provider for his grandmother. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lexa nodded, “she’s been taken to the hospital… I can take him, he’s nestled quite comfortably.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Let’s both go,” Clarke stepped forward to gently comb Cyrus’s hair back behind his ear, whispering under her breath to Lexa’s ear only, “she’s still got her eyes watching us.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We have shares in that magazine, don’t worry,” Lexa whispered back with a very monotone and yet layered sarcastic droll, “even if you said I was the worst wife ever she would write how in love we both are.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke raises her eyebrows at Lexa, even giggling as they ascended the staircase to quietly slip out of the party. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Aren’t your arms tired? You’ve been holding him for over an hour.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lexa said nothing, and after a few minutes of navigating the mansion Clarke had been imprisoned into calling her home, they entered Cyrus’s room. The party sounds were far away now, that Clarke could actually relax her shoulders. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Actually, yes, they are burning.” Lexa admitted as Clarke took Cryus from her arms gently laying him down on a change table and removing his party attire -- a cute Christmas red baby tux. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke realised after she had successfully managed to put him in his onesie that Lexa was watching them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You can go back to your Rolex, Ferrari, Beach house discussions downstairs Lexa.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lexa didn’t move and when Clarke looked up, she found very humoured eyes on her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Funny,” Lexa drawled, a small smirk on her lips. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke rolled her eyes, kissing Cyrus on his cheek feather light so as not to wake him before exiting the nursery. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lexa followed her out, and they fell into their silence. It wasn’t as uncomfortable these days, rather Clarke found Lexa was the only one whose presence gave her any sort of control of her life. Lexa spoke to her when spoken to, letting Clarke dictate the pace of their animosity entirely and never giving her orders the way her mother demanded. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Grudgingly, Clarke had to accept Lexa was not a bad person -- she just had the most awful, controlling mother in the world and Clake had, until recently, blamed her spineless cowering to Olympia as Clarke’s misfortune. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Later in the party, Clarke dutifully laughed at Olympia’s jokes with some of their highest ranking company employees. Lexa was taking over as C.E.O. this year. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Blakes, Lexa’s cousins, had not shown up this year. They showed up at every Woods Christmas party since Clarke’s marriage. Octavia had once been Clarke’s close friend, and now all she got were judgy comments and distance. And Bellamy… Bellamy was another story. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Last year during this very party he had made a pass at her, and Lexa had walked in just as Clarke had shoved him off. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Look, mistletoe,” a cater waiter was holding it up over Clarke’s head with what appeared to be a fishing rod -- and of course just as Lexa appeared by her side with a flute of champagne. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The executives all cooed at them and Clarke saw the flash in Olympia’s eyes before she faked a smile and turned her head to cup Lexa’s cheek. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lexa leaned in and gently kissed her before bashfully tucking her chin and stepping back. Olympia’s eyes fluttered their approval and Clarke visualised killing her once again. Violent, but her only form of therapy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She felt Lexa’s hand, warm on her waist, lingering for a moment before grabbing an hors d'oeuvre off the caterer's plate and asking Andrew Hunter how his son’s equestrian tournaments were going. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They had kissed the first time at their wedding, then every year since, purely for tasteful and appropriate show, at their annual wedding anniversary party. Never outside of that outspoken rule. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Never had Clarke actually enjoyed it. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry about the mistletoe,” Lexa’s soft voice touched her ears when it was past one thirty in the morning. Guests left at midnight, and the cleaning staff remained to tidy up the party. Clarke hated herself for sneaking a peak when Lexa had stripped from her formal attire into one of her nightgowns. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Had those gowns always been so revealing and silky?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke had just been about to sleep, willed her thoughts to something very ‘cold water’ worthy like Andrew Hunter, turned her back to Lexa’s nightgown, and reminded herself she </span>
  <em>
    <span>hated</span>
  </em>
  <span> the Woods family. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But then Lexa spoke and Clarke’s mind thought back to it, the moment her eyes fluttered into their mistletoe kiss and Lexa’s eyes fell to her lips. It had been chaste and…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lexa </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>beautiful. And available. Maybe. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She turned on her side, perhaps guided by the extra wine in her system. She could see the back of Lexa’s chestnut hair and let her eyes glide in appreciation over the slope of Lexa’s bare shoulder that was not under the covers. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Lexa?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lexa slowly turned around, and the moonlight illuminated the green of her eyes even in the darkened room. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?” Lexa asked her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ever since Costia’s wedding…” Clarke had been looking at her differently. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lexa turned her body more fully, “what about it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You left her for her protection… and to make sure your mother didn’t follow through on her threat to me and Cyrus, right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lexa observed her for a moment before nodding, “yes. Why do you ask--”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke swept forward to erase the distance between them, cutting off Lexa’s question with a kiss before pulling away quickly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lexa looked stunned before dropping her face back into her usual mask of indifference. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why did you kiss me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Why indeed. Clarke opted for honesty, at least they had always had that. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I haven’t had sex in years, neither have you… you’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>beautiful </span>
  </em>
  <span>and… I trust you. How fucked up is that? That even after all of this, I trust you with Cyrus and… I think we’re stuck in this together like the pathetic prisoners we are and if you don’t want to kiss me behind closed doors that’s fine, I would understand, but we can also be… I don’t know. I have no one else I can talk to, you know?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lexa said nothing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke felt white hot embarrassment and turned back around, closing her eyes in frustration. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was some movement on the large mattress, and then a hand tentatively lay atop her hip. Over the covers, but warm. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Clarke?” Came the soft tone and question. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry for kissing you without--” Clarke turned around to apologise but lips found her own in the dark. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Soft, gentle, comforting… Clarke melted back into the mattress, letting herself soak in the comfort offered. She spread her legs as a body slid between them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It felt </span>
  <em>
    <span>so </span>
  </em>
  <span>good. Maybe it had been the fact that she’d only touched herself during this sham marriage and medical school was stressful, or the fact that she was lonely and needed someone to just </span>
  <em>
    <span>be</span>
  </em>
  <span> there, and she knew Lexa felt the same. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lexa who always carried the weight on her shoulders. Lexa who nipped into her lips sweetly and changed the angle, like Clarke was something precious. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You looked so good tonight,” Clarke whispered, breaking their kiss for some much needed air. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maybe it was lust for the woman who cared for her son like he was blood and looked so damn </span>
  <em>
    <span>good </span>
  </em>
  <span>all the time. Maybe it was that glittering, snug tuxedo and perfectly silken hair. Maybe it was this </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> thin nightgown. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lexa pressed their foreheads together, responding by kissing her again. Clarke let out a sigh, threading her hands up through soft hair. Lexa’s perfume smelled so good, and she kissed right under Clarke’s ear when Clarke needed to remember how to breath. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You find me attractive?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke froze. She was about to backtrack her comment, excuse it for the wine she had after all the champagne, until she saw the vulnerability in those eyes and realised Lexa </span>
  <em>
    <span>needed </span>
  </em>
  <span>her consent even though Clarke had already kissed her. Not just consent to kiss her or more, consent that Clarke wanted this -- wanted her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lexa’s eyes always said so much the woman never verbalised. And in this moment, Clarke swore she saw the beginnings of tears, saw the pain of a woman who was </span>
  <em>
    <span>as lonely as her</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Clarke’s heart lurched.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She nodded once, linked her arms around a neck slim neck and arched her neck into a kiss that revealed more intent. After their lips separated in a soft, smacking sound, Lexa inhaled and kissed her back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lexa held herself up by the palms of her hands as the fabric of their nightgowns shifted from the kissing and arching, their hips started gyrating into a slow grind. The feel of a body pressing down on Clarke’s aching centre combined with the sensation of bare, smooth legs brushing her own was enough to have Clarke allow her lust to take over. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She groaned, separating from a heady kiss to gasp and push up for more friction. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You were by far the most beautiful woman in that room Clarke,” Lexa whispered in her ear, lowering her weight to rest on an elbow and letting her palm of her other hand move down over Clarke’s curves and contours. When she reached the hem of Clarke’s nightgown, she slid a hand under it to grip a thigh. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With the sound rustling of fabrics and heavy panting, Clarke’s leg was guided to position around a slim waist. Clarke gasped as Lexa ground down into her with this new angle, more purpose in her touches. Neither of them bothered to pretend they were seeking anything other than a release (and Clarke accepted that she was more sober than she wanted to admit). </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They were kissing again and Clarke felt impossibly soft fingers tease over where she was wet and evidently willing in her desires. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gripping Lexa’s waist with both her legs, Clarke used her strength to flip their positions so Lexa was the one who lay on her back. There under the moonlight, surprised eyes admired her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke stared down at the prize now pinned under her weight, flushed cheeks and neck, and thin silky straps of a nightgown falling from shoulders. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Reaching down, she gripped the bottom of her own garment, thrilled with the way Lexa’s eyes fixated on her movements. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She lifted it up and over her head in one smooth motion before tossing it aside. She saw the arousal darken on Lexa’s face as green eyes devoured her naked torso, felt the gaze drinking her in like the finest wine... eyes lingering the most on Clarke’s exposed breasts before meeting her face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lexa didn’t raise a finger to touch her, and Clarke was thankful the other woman understood she needed this -- needed to be on top. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Reaching down for a hand that gripped the sheets around them, Clarke guided the long, soft fingers of Lexa’s right hand to the apex between her thighs. They both moaned at the contact. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lexa made to sit up, but Clarke pressed her back down, needing the distance. With a nod of understanding, she slipped her fingers in through the side of the lacey blue underwear and watched Clarke sink down onto them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For years Clarke had been controlled, and now finally she had some of her own control as she rode the fingers Lexa curled up into her, throwing her head back and focusing on her own pleasure. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lexa had business to attend to for some weeks after their hookup, missing actual Christmas as well as the New Year. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke doesn’t see her again until she’s feeding Cyrus his breakfast. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wick was watching him as usual, and updating Clarke on his grandmother’s latest health concerns since her visit to the emergency room, when Lexa came into the kitchen asking the chef for a coffee. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Their eyes met, and to Clarke’s flushed surprise, Lexa was smiling almost shyly at her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wick how’s your grandmother?” Lexa asked him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mommy,” Cyrus is reaching for Lexa, happy to see her, and Clarke’s lust is brought back to reality. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They had slept together two weeks ago, and then Lexa had left for a flight. They had not spoken since, and she was reminded that Lexa was the other mother of her son because of blackmail, nothing more. But Cyrus loved his mommy, perhaps as much as his mama, and Lexa adored Cyrus.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She had always been comforted by Lexa’s relationship with Cyrus, but now it was causing an odd beat of her heart. Almost like a flutter. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wick repeated to Lexa what he told Clarke, and Lexa didn’t mind the stain Cyrus got on her pristine white shirt. She sat across from Clarke when the chef handed her freshly ground coffee, and Wick took their son outside for a stroll in the nice weather. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What have you got planned today?” Lexa asked her, taking a sip from her coffee. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke watched the way lips touched the rim of the mug, remembering them on the column of her throat, and averted her eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I have some free time. Classes don’t start--”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Until next week,” Lexa finished for her, placing her mug down with a light thunk. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She was so unaffected and Clarke found it so annoying. One leg crossed over the other, the fingers that had reached within Clarke and helped her achieve a very much needed orgasm fiddled with the handle of the mug, and green eyes with clear want. Clarke’s heart raced. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lexa averted her gaze to the kitchen staff that were nearby preparing the family lunch before addressing Clarke. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can we talk?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They go to the North garden side, watching Cyrus and Wick from afar. Wick was good with him, looking after him while Clarke attended medical school. But it was still a holiday break for her, and now she had idle time. She had intended to join them until Lexa’s appearance. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“First I wanted to apologise,” Lexa addresses her, hands relaxed into her pockets while Clarke is  a flustered mess, defensively crossing hers. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“For what? I’m pretty sure I…” Clarke was too embarrassed to finish that sentence, brain flashing back to the way she had instigated everything -- making the first move and saying they could...</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“For leaving without talking to you,” Lexa turned to face her now. “Look Clarke… what you said, about being stuck in this together… I hope you know that I trust you too.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke uncrossed her arms, listening. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know you -- or I’ve come to know you, rather well,” Lexa seems to realise the pun of her sentence and to Clarke’s amusement this time her cheeks redden in embarrassment, “I mean… you know what I mean.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know what you mean Lexa,” Clarke chuckled, relaxing herself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right,” Lexa coughs gently in the back of the throat, “I know Cyrus is the most important to you, I know you resent me and my family for this life.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t resent you,” Clarke confessed quietly, “not anymore. It’s why I… kissed you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lexa exhaled, nodding.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> “I take it we both needed that, not just me.” Clarke added, a little smug when she saw Lexa’s eyes on her lips again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So we’ve discovered an attraction, we’re married…” Lexa looks into her eyes now, “and we trust each other.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You want to, what, try and make this work?” Clarke doesn't hold back on the sarcasm. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No,” Lexa looks annoyed and then indifferent again, “I mean we can do that again. Nothing else changes.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was an acceptable offer, and one Clarke felt like Lexa knew she wouldn’t refuse. The sex had been… pretty remarkable all things considered. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Clarke I --” Lexa bit her lip, “I need you to know that it won’t always be this way.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What won’t?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This life.” Lexa grabbed her hand, gently holding it. “Things will change.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How?” Clarke feels hope and despair all at once but she grips the hand back in hope, “your mother is fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>psychotic</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Lexa. Even when you become C.E.O. she’s going to control everything until she fucking dies.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lexa’s eyes flash and her voice lowers, “It feels that way but… I swear to you I will get you your freedom okay? I </span>
  <em>
    <span>swear </span>
  </em>
  <span>it.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Somehow Clarke believes her, and in a moment of emotional sway she kisses Lexa again. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke stares at Lexa’s naked shoulder, watching the small rise and fall from her even breathing. Lexa was a silent sleeper. They hadn’t shared a bedroom until Olympia pretty much enforced it, two years ago… and that was only if Lexa was in town. Now they were months into a sexual relationship and Lexa seemed to be in town for business longer than usual. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Their arrangement clearly didn’t include cuddling, not that Clarke needed it. When they would finish, Lexa would watch her with careful eyes until Clarke separated them and they would both wordlessly sleep, backs turned. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With her stomach growling for hunger, Clarke slipped her nightgown and underwear back on, as well as a warm robe and slippers, meandering through the halls and down to the kitchen. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When she had been pregnant, she would sneak down to eat the pickles in the fridge or have the driver take her to McDonald’s (until Olympia found out and told her off for the baby’s health). </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Woods family had taken her freedom when it was all she had left -- freedom of choice. She had barely grieved her parents death and Olympia had made her marry Lexa. Cyrus was the small happiness she had, on the days the expectations of being Olympia’s vision of a grandchild didn’t take him away and then this family had even managed to make her motherhood a transaction. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But now, even if it was just sex with Lexa… somehow Clarke felt so much lighter in her heart. The burden and the loneliness was lifting. It wasn’t intimacy, but it was a connection of its own kind. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Making it to the kitchen, she was hungry enough for the good cheese the chef kept in stock for her, maybe some crackers--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You and Lexa have evolved.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The hairs on the back of Clarke’s neck raised. She held her breath, shocked to find Olympia Woods in the kitchen after midnight, a bottle of the most expensive scotch in front of her and a tumblr with ice next to it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke said nothing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come, join me for a drink Clarke.” Olympia gestured besides her, “grab a glass from the cupboard. I’m celebrating.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke did so, sitting down across from her mother-in-law. Her warden. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Celebrating what?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A new year,” Olympia poured her own glass first and then Clarke’s, even. She raised her perfectly manicured, long nails around the glass and raised it. After a tense moment, Clarke let their glasses touch in a cink. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Olympia downed her scotch in one smooth swallow and then poured another. Clarke took a small sip, her appetite gone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You came down for a snack, hmm? Go ahead. Grab one.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke let out a breath with her back turned, reaching for the cool air of the fridge and lingering. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Olympia made her so </span>
  <em>
    <span>damn</span>
  </em>
  <span> angry. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She grabbed a chilled apple and washed it, taking her time. But there was only so much time she could take before having to put her own mask back on and sit across Olympia, Olympia who looked entirely too smug with herself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>told </span>
  </em>
  <span>you she would make you a good wife and you her,” Olympia said. “Glad to see you’re finally embracing your role, Clarke.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke crunched into her apple, hating her life all over again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Finally, </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking finally</span>
  </em>
  <span> we are on top,” Olympia had that same look in her eyes she always had, but unlike the usual, cold and clinical persona she showed here she was almost gleeful. Her hair was much greyer these days. “I have full family control of the shares. My sister and her </span>
  <em>
    <span>insipid </span>
  </em>
  <span>bloodline are out. Lexa has proven to be… exactly the daughter I had always hoped for.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke can feel the phantom touches of Lexa’s fingers up her spine, hearing her gasping pleasure in Clarke’s ear. It had felt so good, an escape and release. It gave her something nice, and now it was ruined as Olympia spoke her next words. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She came up with the final phase of the plan,” Olympia bragged, pouring a third scotch, “amended my father’s will so me, the </span>
  <em>
    <span>rightful </span>
  </em>
  <span>first born, receives my due and my </span>
  <em>
    <span>freeloading </span>
  </em>
  <span>brother-in-law and his idiot children have their scraps.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It meant that Lexa helped Olympia take away the shares from the Blakes in the seemingly never-ending power struggle. That Lexa, kind and gentle Lexa, had not so kindly taken from them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She was ruthless. You should have seen the look on Bellamy’s face when they read out grandfather’s will today, that idiot nephew of mine actually thought he stood a chance to run this family.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke had often wondered what kind of nefarious hate ran so deep that billionaires hated their family so much they needed to blackmail a woman to keep her child for some shares. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She remembered Octavia’s warning that Lexa was heartless, echoing in her head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Had she read Lexa wrong? Did Lexa promise things would change not by freeing Clarke, but by giving her mother even more power and sinking Clarke deeper in this nightmare?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke goes back to her bedroom with a taste of sweet apple in her mouth and smooth scotch, but her head and her gut and her heart feel bitter when she sees Lexa sleeping soundly under the moonlight. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Olympia had always been clear about where she stood, forcing Clarke to make the choices she wanted. Openly hating the Blakes. Constantly awful. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But Lexa… Lexa had earned her trust. Lexa had saved Cyrus. Lexa had... Lexa had made her </span>
  <em>
    <span>believe </span>
  </em>
  <span>she could escape only to… </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lexa had lied. She was as much if not more power hungry than her mother, and Clarke was nothing but a pawn in their games. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>warning: death mentioned in this chapter (but don't worry, not clarke or lexa or the baby)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Clarke was writing an anatomy exam, ironically on a question about the pelvis of all things, when her water broke. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was inconvenient, but she scribbled out the last couple of questions quickly and then raised her hand for her professor. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her exam was done, and the bodyguards Olympia had trailed on her to and from campus (that kept her classmates intimidated and distant and Clarke forever alone save for her in-laws), helped call an ambulance and inform the Woods family. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke was nervous, head spirllaing with thought for her child. She had been part of the Woods family expectations (control) for hardly nine months and she was already sad for them. They were to be born with a name she didn’t want for them. The money and power was there, but with it…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was an odd feeling. She wanted to be a mother, the baby was in her womb and she loved them. Yet, she also dreaded they would grow up with Olympia Woods shaping them into another Lexa.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She wished she never got pregnant. She wished Finn never suffered drug addiction. She wished she had someone to be here for </span>
  <em>
    <span>her</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Octavia had always been a friend she could count on, until she married Lexa and now Octavia had cut her out. Most of all, she wished her parents were alive… her mother was such a legendary doctor in this hospital and it hurt to remember her old life. Clarke longed for her mother’s advice and love, and her father’s easy way of making everything calm with his hugs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Instead, she was stuck with her two silent bodyguards who never learned the art of conversation and tended to talk around her instead of to her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The doctor is coming and Miss Woods is on her way.” Emily, the taller of the two bodyguards told her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Great. Thanks Emily.” Clarke was glad Olympia was out of the country. Honestly, she hadn’t really expected Lexa to show up either. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They needed the baby for their company bullshit, and Clarke had hoped to be left alone. She felt guilty as a mother already. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The door to the private room opened as the doctor in question arrived. To Clarke’s surprise, it was someone she knew. Very well. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dr Campbell, or Niylah as Clarke remembered her, was a medical student working with her mother just a few years ago. A student who Clarke hooked up with on occasion despite the few years age gap.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fuck off,” Clarke rolled her eyes, smiling fondly. “Of all the doctors…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Niylah was just a hook up. A pleasant one who did her residency out of town, and Clarke met Finn shortly after Niylah started dating another girl at her school months after laving town. They had just fallen out of touch since, and now as Clarke saw a nice memory of her past she felt a little less alone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Clarke!” Niylah looked happy to see her, eyes wide in shock, “long time!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke didn’t expect the hug but she relished it. Her eyes burned from the comfort. No one had touched her in so long, and she never realised it until that moment.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I was so sorry to hear about your parents, Clarke,” Niylah whispered in sincere empathy. “Your mother was my hero.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A throat cleared and Clarke broke off their hug when she looked up to see Lexa by the door. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke wiped the leaking tears from her eyes, knowing Lexa in her luxury peacoat could care less for them. Afraid of what Lexa could do to Niylah, Clarke distanced herself immediately.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Niylah this is...um...” Clarke sniffled, wishing the hug could have lasted just a second longer. “Lexa.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re the doctor?” Lexa stepped into the room, arm extended politely but eyes rather harsh. She was hard to read for Clarke. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Since their wedding, Lexa was an expert in leaving Clarke alone and asking how the pregnnacy was going along. Olympia forced family meals here and there, and Clarke knew after the prganncy Olympia was demanding they start sharing a room. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lexa was… difficult to read and Clarke was glad the woman worked and traveled for work so much. The only time Lexa had ever reached out to her was to wish her a happy birthday or correspond her schedule, but even the scheduling was done through her assistant and their bodyguards. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m just her chattel,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Clarke reminded herself, knowing Lexa’s narrowed eyes had little to do with thei rmarriage and everything to do with appearances. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes. I’m Dr. Campbell,” Niylah shook the proffered hand, shooting Clarke a small smile. “Clarke and I are old friends.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m her wife.” Lexa released the hand and then stuffed it back into her pockets before walking over to Clarke’s bedside. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke shot Lexa a glare  out Niylah’s view, reciving an emotionless stare in return. When Niylah turned to look at her with shock from this news, Clarke quickly smiled. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes. She is… we’ve married almost a year now… Um, Niylah is an old friend of my family, Lexa.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke held her breath as Lexa looked between them. She said nothing, just dismissed the bodyguards from her room to go home with her chin, leaving the three of them in the room with one guard outside the door. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Niylah looked at Clarke with bemusement. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s nice, Dr. Campbell. Clarke hasn’t been able to meet any old friends since our wedding, too busy with… medical school.” Lexa cleared her throat and to Clarke’s surprise the shifting of her body was awkward. “Why don’t you two catch up… I’ll grab something to eat. Clarke, would you like anything?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke relaxed, glad she would get some more privacy to catch up with someone and requests ice cream, any flavour would do. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lexa gave a stiff smile and left the room to get it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She’s… impressive,” Niylah says when they are alone. “Woods of </span>
  <em>
    <span>The Woods</span>
  </em>
  <span> family?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke nodded, bile rising in her throat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Niylah whistled. “Damn, Clarke… how’d that happen?I thought you were dating that pretty boy?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’s not… it didn’t work out. Lexa was… there. It surprised me too but, well…. Here we are.” Clarke doesn’t want to elaborate further than that and changes the subject. “So how about you, any special lady?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>NIylah grins, flirtatiously and unprofessionally letting her eyes wander down Clarke’s body before admitting. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m single at the moment.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was innapprotiate considering Niylah </span>
  <em>
    <span>just </span>
  </em>
  <span>found out she was married. But Clarke ignored the blatant flirtation. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Instead she just reminisces her mother and old memories with Niylah, laughing for the first time in a longwhile. Lexa returns within fifteen minutes, a toffee ice cream in her hands, and Niylah turns into Dr. Campbell, sharing that Clarke is healthy and they just need to wait for the baby. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>/</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The labor lasts all night and into the next day. Clarke was dead tired, and starting to get impatient. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lexa was whispering into the phone a few feet away. She had stayed the last sixteen hours with Clarke in the hospital. They had been moved to a bigger room in private wing, with increased security and what seemed like an office with two furiously typing drones in suits who occsaionaly handed Lexa a paper to look at. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How are you feeling?” Niylah and a nurse asked her, both entering the room to check in on her during their rounds.  Clarke didn’t comment on the fact that Niylah was checking on her twice as much as a doctor usually did.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Prolonged labour is tiring,” Clarke winced as a contraction hit again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Your contractions are still too weak…” Niylah gently held her hand, squeezing it once before turning judgmental eyes to Lexa’s makeshift office of whispering employees. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Stress</span>
  </em>
  <span> is not going to help.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Everything okay Dr. Campbell?” Lexa asked, curious on an update. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke noticed Lexa’s eyes were on their hands for a second too long, so Clarke gently let go of Niylah’s hand and explained to Lexa. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m not dilated enough,” Clarke said. “It’s probably just a premature rupture, Lexa.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lexa doesn’t look concerned, Clarke thought the woman would at least fake it a bit in front of a third party. She walks forward approaching Clarke at the bedside. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” Lexa then surprises her by reaching for her hand and holding it. “I’ll get them all to leave, Clarke. There was an emergency otherwise I wouldn’t have… it’s resolved now.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The concern seems sincere and Clarke is at a loss for words from the touch, simply nodding. It didn’t feel like it was for show, it felt like Lexa actually cared about her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I really didn’t mind, they were a good distraction from the pain,” Clarke doesn’t know why she felt compelled to reassure Lexa. Somehow she felt like she was being understood and wanted to offer the same. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What happens now?” Lexa asked the doctor then. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Niylah seemed less judgmental now, and responded to Lexa’s inquisition. “We can medically induce labor, and the baby should be fine.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke noticed that after that, Niylah’s flirtations stopped as well. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>/</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lexa has never experienced anything so incredibly powerful as watching Clarke’s eyes gaze, enamored with her newborn son. There was something so pure in that love. Lexa was moved by it, longed for it herself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Now, the sleeping infant was in his crib and Clarke was fast asleep. Lexa watched him, knowing this small baby was her responsibility. Her promise to Clarke was to keep him safe, it was the only thing she could offer. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She had never wanted kids, but she was not one to shy away from duty. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll protect you,” she promised him quietly. “And her. Even if I need to protect you from myself.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>//</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hey, Clarke -- look at me,” Lexa's grip on her face was fierce and Clarke tried to calm her own breathing. “Clarke… Clarke!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Clarke finally met her eyes, breathing slowing down thought the tears did not, “I can’t--”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The tears in her eyes were blurring her vision but she saw Lexa’s eyes full of pain. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I will not stop until I find him okay? I promise. We will do whatever it takes.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“He’s all I have Lexa -- he’s my everything,” Clarke whimpered, breaking down in fear and anxiety. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I know, Clarke,” Lexa had said to her. “Come with me… we’re organizing the ransom pay off with the FBI. They just want money, and we have the money okay? He willbe fine, without him they get nothing. Okay?” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Clarke sniffled, nodding and following Lexa back to the room the FBI had set up for the phone call. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Clarke had not wanted him, but he was hers and she had failed him. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Clarke, this is Agent Byrne,” Olympia introduced her. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“They want a cash drop,” Agent Byrne said. “One hundred twenty million.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Fucking amateurs,” Lexa squeezed her hand for comfort while she swore. “We can have that organized in ten hours.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Bryne’s eyes shot up in surprise, “good. They gave you a window of twenty-four.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Twenty-four!” Clarke thought of her son, away from her, for twenty-four hours with kidnappers who threatened to kill him if not paid. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Clarke, calm down please,” Olympia seemed surprised at the reaction. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Calm down?” Clarke was angry. “This is because I married into this family! You promised he’d be safe -- you promised.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Olympia looked furious, but held her tongue when agent Byrne gave her a curious look. She feigned to soothe. “I know you’re hurting, darling, we all are--”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Mother, please let me handle this,” Lexa said, cutting her mother off. “I’ll keep you informed. You need to be in London, remember?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Olympia’s eyes were narrowed on Clarke before she left. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Lexa sighed, reaching out to tentatively place a hand on Clarke’s shoulder. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“If there is so much as a scratch on his head they get nothing,” Lexa said furiously to Byrne. “Make sure they understand our terms.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke thought back to that day now, watching Lexa and Cyrus seated with a few bodyguards in the audience. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The ransom payment went without a hitch… and also the men were caught not long after, the cash bills given carrying a gps tracker invisible to the eye. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lexa had let them think they got away with it, and then entrapped them. Clarke trusted her with Cyrus, but finding out Lexa had taken out Blake's inheritance for her mother's bidding… she was finding it hard to trust her. She felt like she had been offered a fasle escape. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cyrus being born under the Woods family name was what gave them a head start for the shares in the first place, there was no way they would give up anything now that they were in full control. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Did Lexa save him purely because she loved him or because he was that extra percent that got her what she wanted, that led up to this moment? How could Lexa fake caring so well if shr truly did not care?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke snapped out from her reverie when her name was called. She plastered a fake smile, walking across the stage as people clapped, accepting the Dean of Medicine’s handshake and receiving of her medical degree. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After the ceremony, Clarke found Lexa and Cyrus in the campus garden outside. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There’s mama,” Lexa told Cyrus, waving to Clarke and speaking gently to him. “Tell her Cyrus.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey sweetie,” Clarke accepted him into her arms, kissing his cheek. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Congwats mama,” He mumbled, thumb in his mouth. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lexa’s eyes had so much affection in them for him -- surely she truly… cared.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> Clarke was now doubting her doubts.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wick?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Gave him the day off,” Lexa said with a small smile. “I figured you would want to spend it with Cyrus instead. I have the, um, day off too… thought we could celebrate.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She seemed shy, even, and Clarke felt her throat dry. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke watched from her bedroom balcony as Lexa explained the different flowers in the garden to Cyrus. With Wick at his grandmother’s funeral, Lexa had taken work off for the weekend and stayed with them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke was conflicted, especially when she heard Cyrus’s happy giggles. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lexa adored him -- no one could fake that type of care. And yet, she had seen Lexa turn emotions on and off over the years that she would be a fool to absolutely trust her because---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Lexa!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That was why. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Olympia called Lexa, voice sounding impatient. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Give the boy to his mother, would you? We have an urgent matter to discuss.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course mother,” Lexa said solemnly, picking Cyrus up and handing him to Clarke. Olympia smirked at  Clarke, as if she knew Clarke was being tortured with what she said from the kitchen and needed to flaunt how much control she had over Lexa. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke held Cyrus close and smiled at a passing professor, crowding near a few people as if it looked like she was with them while craning her ear to catch whatever Lexa and Olympia were saying. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“-- need you to make sure the paperwork is in order. I leave for London tonight.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course mother, I won't let you down.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke didn’t know why this hurt her so much, hearing how much Lexa would do what her mother told her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When had she given Lexa any power over her whatsoever? When had she developed any kind of feelings for her heart to feel broken like this?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>/</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Say goodbye to your grandmother, Cyrus,” Clarke cooed her son to comply, still playing her role of sweet daughter-in-law with other families of graduates around. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Olympia waved her fingers and then turned sharp eyes to Clarke. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be in touch while I’m gone for the next month, Clarke, don’t slack on the plans for the charity benefit.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course,” Clarke plastered on her fake smile. Olympia smirked. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Lexa, I’ll see you in London next week,” her eyes flashed dangerously to Clarke. “Remember what I told you about distractions.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course,” Lexa said smoothly. “Family always comes first.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke felt the chill in her heart. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Olympia was gone and Lexa turned to her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dinner?” She looked hopeful and Clarke knew it was rare for her and Cyrus to get out of the house. Plus, she was starving. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After a quiet dinner, not quite the ‘celebration’ Clarke had imagiend having medical school like. She would have graduated with proud parents in the stands, friends buying her shots...</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They got home in silence and Cyrus fell asleep in the limousine. Clarke went to put him to bed, not sure what she was going to do when she got to her own bedroom. She took her time, watching his peaceful rest and willing her heart to stop feeling so heavy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Clarke.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke pauses, not looking up from her son, even as Lexa’s body warmth ghosted behind her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Unable to hold it in any longer she turns her furious eyes to Lexa. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why did you do it?” It’s a low whisper. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lexa doesn’t look surprised with her question, as if she knew exactly why Clarke was so livid. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It was necessary,” she quietly returns, eyes making sure Cyrus is still fast asleep.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It doesn’t make sense, Lexa,” Clarke didn’t care that her voice was more heartbroken and less angry now. “You are… that’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>you. Tell me it’s not you. Tell me you’re not like her… that whatever I’ve been feeling between us isn’t a lie.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This time Lexa looked stunned and her eyes displayed a magnitude of pain and hope, “feeling between us, Clarke?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke knew she had said too much. She braced herself and said what she was feeling, finally told Lexa her distraught. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know how it happened but I’m happy when you’re here, I’m happy with you -- but you’re… you say things to me privately but then your mother says you’re the opposite. I’m confused.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Clarke…” Lexa’s hands are on her cheeks. “You have no idea how inspiring you are. You have all your freedom taken but you still show strength. You are special, and what I say to you I </span>
  <em>
    <span>mean</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I will never betray… I care about you and Cyrus more than anyone else.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke believed her, relief washing over her body. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lexa turns once, watching Cyrus sleeping softly, and then she looks back to Clarke. It takes a long, tense moment until she makes a decision. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lexa reaches down to hold their hands whispering for Clarke’s ears alone what she had done. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>//</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anya placed a gentle hand on Lexa’s shoulder. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My condolences.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, Anya.” Lexa gives a grim nod, before turning her eyes back to the expensive open casket where her mother’s body lay. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke curled herself closer to Lexa’s body, giving Anya a thankful smile. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anya moved on, and more people who came to Olympia Woods funeral gave Lexa and Clarke their heartfelt condolences. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke had faked for so long, she supposed she owed Olympia at least that much gratitude. To have pu ther through enough pretentious shit that she could pretend to be upset the horrific woman was dead. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dead by her own daughter’s hand</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They had left Cyrus at home, agreeing he was too young for a funeral. And when everyone left and Olympia was taken to be buried in an impressive lot for show, Clarke finally felt like she could breathe again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Clarke?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hm?” Clarke turned eyes to her wife. Her friend? Her Lexa. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I think to properly grieve I could use a vacation….a break. The company understands of course, they recommended it. Where would you like to go, now that you're done with all your… exams.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarke pressed her mouth to Lexa’s shoulder, forcing her smile down. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A beach sounds exactly the place for that.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Paperwork went through today,” Lexa told her. “The Blakes have had their shares repurposed. I’ll maintain comapny control but theu will recieve their financial dividends.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That explained why they showed up today,” Clarke said, having felt Octavia and Bellamy’s curious eyes on her during the priest’s sermon. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hmm,” Lexa hummed, and then turned to her. “Will you have dinner with me, first?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Take me to a fucking McDonald’s please,” Clarke requested, thinking of all the times Olympia denied her such small luxuries. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Rest in whatever hell you made for yourself, bitch</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Clarke mentally told the grave, walking with Lexa to their limousine with her freedom back in her hands. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  
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